


time we don't yet have

by castrumcruentus



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fighting, M/M, Mount Silver era, and red cant commit, green cant control his temper, right person wrong time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrumcruentus/pseuds/castrumcruentus
Summary: and Green would always beg and beg and beg for Red to come home. one year of visits to Mount Silver, three arguments, and two soulmates that just need more time.
Relationships: Ookido Green | Blue Oak/Red
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	time we don't yet have

**Author's Note:**

> THESE BOYSSSSSSSS HELLO POKEMON FANDOM HOW I HAVE MISSED YOU. I am so excited to share with you all this fun look at the first year of Green visiting Red on Mount Silver. I headcanon them in their late teens early twenties, probably around gen IV in the timeline? i just adore the push and pull of them trying to mend their relationship and Red constantly just not within arms reach. pls enjoy this fun little angst fest.

_Red looks radiant against the snow._

It was the opposite of whatever Deerling did in the winter, where they shed their tawny furs for a more discreet and subtle white. Red had adapted backwards, acclimating through an act of pure rebellion on the mountain to glow bright and harsh through night dark hair and hot eyes unblinking. When he stood knee deep in an icy drift, watching in simple silence, wind blowing hard until his cheeks were flushed and painful, it seemed even more violent and thoughtless.

He noticed Green first, and as he was each time, Green’s breath was snatched away. He played it off best he could, pulling his scarf higher up until it tickled his nose with stray fibres but he still couldn’t shake the way Red burned so cruelly against such a pallid landscape.

“Its, uagh---” Green nearly tripped on himself, scrambling up the last few icy ridges before reaching the flat landing of Red’s cave. “It’s un-fucking believable that it took so long to find you. Do you always just stand out there like that?” He yelled, trying to make his voice carry across the few yards between them.

Red shook his head with a snort, still form suddenly shaking to life to float from his perch back to the mouth of the cave and envelop Green in an impatient hug. Red always smelled like cold- something Green never even knew was possible until he found his former best friend so many years later. It stung high and in the back of his throat but despite his best efforts, he’d come to enjoy the lingering smell of frozen wet hair.

“C’mon.” Red murmured, pulling Green within the dull glow of a fire now turned coals.

Red’s cave had become familiar by now, a shallow indent in the slate grey hold of Mount Silver. Camping equipment was all he’d been willing to haul up even after making it his permanent residence for nearly 5 years, a few cots here and there with his original black and grey duffle bag still used to hold a few pairs of pants, sweaters, scarves and socks. Pikachu’s bed was a plush gift from Green last year, a dirtied but soft fleece donut tucked carefully right beside Red’s sleeping mat and bag. Red did his best to ignore the mountain of cans that were accumulating up against the back slanted wall, choosing to make a few into pocket fires and the rest an abstract sculpture he wasn’t sure how he’d get rid of if he ever left this place.

Green’s personal favourite addition was the double folding camping chair, just wide enough that Red could tuck his feet underneath him with cup holders between the two seats that had been placed close to the fire. Red took his place on the left, kicking off his shoes to pull an already draped blanket around him tightly.

“Okay, so.” Green started, rustling his backpack off his shoulder.

“I brouuuuught tofu, four cans of veggie stew, couple cans of corn, bunch of that hot chocolate powder you were all over…” He glanced up, if only to watch the way Red’s entire body language changed at the mention of the powdered hot chocolate he bought. As if in response, Red threw a few more logs on the fire that had barely burned down to coals, a clear indicator that Red had been outside long before Green arrived.

“And—” Impatient as ever, Green grabbed the bottom of his backpack and flipped the contents unceremoniously upside down, a waterfall of basics pouring out to the cave floor. Toothpaste, a small container of fresh baked Poffins, a few apples he prayed Red would eat before the went bad, and who knows what else that rolled to all corners of Red’s makeshift home. “More stuff.”

Red watched motionless, poised in his corner of the camping chair, following a can of beans as they rolled to a halt near Pikachu’s bed.

“… Hey, thanks.” He said, soft.

It was always soft, barely louder than the crackle of their hungry fire. But, aware that once upon a time there was no thank you, Green overcame his flash of petty anger, pushing Red’s cap off to the ground and rustling dark hair that now brushed his shoulders.

“You need a haircut.” He muttered, grasping the end of a long piece behind Red’s neck and giving it a playful yank before letting him go.

“You gonna give me one? Or.” At that Green couldn’t help but laugh, sinking back into the plastic fabric of his chair and crossing arms tight across his chest.

“Nah. What’d be the point of comin’ all the way up here if I had to see your weird shaped head?”

Clearly not ready to argue the structural integrity of his skull, Red simply snorted, settling into a brief silence, a now present Pikachu nuzzling their calves before digging into Red’s sleeping bag.

There was something hypnotic about the way the fire moved up the walls, the howling wind outside a seeming world away as it missed their little hiding place. Green found it comfortable here, despite all odds.

Conversation was easy- Green would slip comfortably into updates back in town, telling Red about Daisy and his mom and any particularly spritely young trainers Red should keep his eye out for in case they came hunting for the ultimate challenge. And Red would nod along, attentive but serene, nodding here and there and asking questions whenever he could politely slip in. It wasn’t the same droning silence Green had come to know- the one that seemed crueler than any insult Green ever threw at him with the force of a stolen childhood dream. This Red listened, and stayed quiet because he wanted to know, and not because he wanted it to stop.

It was nice.

Sleeping over was at this point a given, and Green didn’t particularly mind as the sky grew dark behind him. While his visit wasn’t over, like clockwork, his stomach gave a brief twist before he asked what he simply always had to. It was a ritual if anything, when he felt like he was drowning in the bags under Red’s eyes and the feeling became unbearable.

“… So… You coming home with me this time?” He sounded nearly afraid to ask, avoiding Red’s eyeline as if to allude disappointment.

There was no avoiding disappointment when it came to Red.

“No. Not this time.”

And the wind cried on.

“Okay. Maybe next time.”

* * *

When they’re buried beneath layers upon layers of sleeping bag fleece, tucked into each other on the far too small sleeping mat to avoid the chill of the mountain floor, Green feels Red’s skin like its the last time- because it might be. It always felt like it might be the last time.

“I missed you.” Red murmurs, pressed against Green’s neck and gasping at the warmth.

“I miss you so much, Red. Every day.”

It’s a fixable problem- Red knew that just as well as Green knew that- there was nothing keeping him here, except for pride. Pride, always the victor when it came between Green and staying won every single time, despite Green’s best efforts.

“I know. Me too.”

* * *

The most bitter months of winter reared their heads with impeccable and predictable timing. Near the end of January and into February were the times Green couldn’t bring himself to visit despite his best efforts, family and friends talking him down successfully at least once from the suicide mission that was feeding his eclectic best friend. There was too much to manage at the gym, too many employees he’d be screwing if he died in some tragic snow related accident, and as much as it exhausted him, Red was always fine.

Despite this, the first trip up after a month or more gap always brought Green to a dangerous nausea, not positive of what he was terrified but simply knowing he was.

Of course, after rounding the last stretch of open valley into thicker, hardier bush, Red saw him first before Green saw Red.

Red always saw him first.

_Red looks tired._

Green was huffing and puffing, out of practice and out of shape from some unencumbered holiday feasting, and Red watched, still and quiet and moved like nothing had changed.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Red, it was just so cold and there’s so much going on down there right now, and—” Green’s apologies were tumbling forward before he could stop them, desperately filling the space between he and Red.

“S’okay.”

Red gave little away as to whether or not he was upset at Green’s absence, but moved closer until the two were at frozen arms length, guiding him slowly to the hidden mouth of his cave.

“Wanna see something gross.” Red laughed, voice harsh and hoarse as the wind.

Before Green could answer, Red wiggled and snapped his third fingernail off on his left hand, the tip a dark and menacing purple.

Red’s innocent dead fingernail fluttered and was lost beneath the snow.

Green nearly passed out.

“F---- Frostbite?! Are you okay? I’ve got—Ach- where’s that first aid kit I left with you last summer?” The one he’d bought after Red cut his leg whittling a wooden Eevee for Green to take home, making record time in his round trip and staying until he saw a healthy scab form over the wound.

Red shook his head, pulling his hand away and back in his pockets, leaving Green seething at his partner’s apparent amusement.

“Hey- all good. This happens. They, like. Grow back. Its funny.” Red panned, brow furrowed that clearly the humour was lost on Green.

“Explain to me how its funny. I’d love to hear exactly why this is funny- Seriously, Red, where Is that kit? There should be a flashlight in it and I can take a closer look. Did you know the blisters could infect? Bet you didn’t.” Not that Green was anxiety reading up on frostbite back home or anything, huddled up under blankets and piecing together his game plan if he came upon the worst.

Of course not.

Red shook his head, clearly exasperated and Green only barely caught the rough chopped ends on the back of Red’s hair as he turned inside the cave, uneven and jagged and done by a boy who clearly had no mirror. His chest clenched in a terribly uncomfortable way.

“Its, uh—Bag.” Red nodded towards his duffle bag, thrown haphazardly near the back of his crumbling space.

“Did you just not notice?” Green spat, pushing Red out of the way to dig through his few ratty possessions, the two now safely within the warmth of Red’s little hideaway. “Is your whole hand like that? What was the plan?”

There’s silence behind him, and not in the warm and thoughtful manner Red had grown into. It’s deep and cold, bottomless- and Green spun before sitting down flat on the dirt floor to at least keep an eye on him.

“What was the plan, Red?”

His companion was a silhouette, dark and calm against the blinding sun against the snow outside. If Green listened, he swore he could listen to the dark crunch of ice forming over, Red’s face smoothing until it was unrecognizable. Well—Not entirely. Until he felt distant again, anyway.

“No plan.” Red mumbled; hands deep in his pockets. “Not your problem.”

“Not my—”

Deep breaths, in and out. Heavy through his nose and slow through his mouth, raking a still gloved hand through frost tipped hair. “You are my problem, actually, Red. You? Constantly not giving a shit? That actually _is_ my problem.”

“You made it your problem.” Red countered, looming over Green with a howling shadow.

And while it was true, it still stung.

Arguing always exhausted Green- it left him more upset than he started- especially against someone so emotionally vacant as Red.

“Guess I did. Sorry, Red.” Green muttered, tearing his eyes away to finally fish out the soft zip case that held Red’s medical supplies. “Now can you c’mere? I just want to take a look at it. Make sure it’s not infected.”

“Okay.”

And when they grasped hands, Green removing his gloves to take a closer look at the bruising tips of Red’s fingers, he held them with exasperated irreverence.

“Thank you. Just—I worry. You know that, yeah?”

“I know.” Quiet, Red shuffled down to flop beside Green until their knees were knocking.

“So keeping every single one of your dumb little fingers is a priority for me.”

“Yeah.”

The frostbite was superficial, easy to coat in an antibacterial cream and wrap up with a few Band-Aids.

“…Will you come home with me? Should probably get it checked ou-“

“No. Not—Not this time.” And Green could’ve sworn Red sounded pained.

“… Okay. Next time for sure.”

* * *

“Hey, Green, did you hear about the trainer on the mountain? They say he’s the toughest there is… I’ve never seen him but my older brother tried to go up there and he--”

“--Yeah, I’ve heard about him.”

“My mom says he doesn’t even exist but I think that’s a pretty cool ghost story if he is—Are you scared of ghosts? I’m not scared of ghosts I think—”

“Kid. He—Here, here. Take the badge. He’s not a ghost. You can go tell your friends that. He’s just some loser that—”

“How would you know?! Oh—Did you fight him? I bet you battled him and lost, didn’t you.”

“Leave, kid. Just trust me. I know.”

He wouldn’t be answering that last question.

* * *

The air on Mount Silver was thin, the altitude sucking the threat of Spring in a months long inhale. Despite its best efforts, though, the snow eventually turned to rain, and flowers stubbornly pushed their way out of the frozen dirt.

It was just like Red to choose a cave only minutes from the summit, the snow clinging to the large boulders around the entrance most stubbornly. Like their inhabitant, it seemed the last to warm, Green arriving at the small plateau at the mouth of Red’s home with an exhausted heave. The mud up here stuck worse than regular mud he could’ve sworn, and a swift kick to said nearby boulders cleared his hiking boots of the worst of it.

“Red? Hey- you home?”

_He better be._

With no response, Green did his very best to dampen the tightness in his stomach, shuffling the heavy backpack on his shoulders in a heap on the cave floor. The shallowness of the cave permitted easy daytime light to trickle in and it didn’t take much observation to realize Red wasn’t present.

“Hey, this isn’t funny, Red—Helloooo?”

Sleeping bag was open and empty, the fire on the cave floor long gone cold. To his anxious dismay there was also no sign of Pikachu, his bowl empty and cans licked clean and rolled to the back rock wall. In nearly a year of visiting, this was the first time Red hadn’t been around to greet him upon arrival, whether staring with wide eyed vacancy or wrapping him up in a thin limbed hug.

It was unsettling.

“Hello?”

He turned, calling outside the cave to echo off the cliff of the mountain and into the valley. Again, Green was met with silence, shoulders tightening to his ears.

_Stupid shit, it would be just like him to die or something right as the weather turned warm._

It was an insane thought, one that he in frequent attempts to develop some kind of levelheadedness gawked at. Jumping to conclusions was a young plight of his, not one that he, nearly 20 should be indulging in. But still, it’s a deep-set panic, pulling his toque off to the cave floor with an anxious huff. Five years living up here and not even a bit of sickness but suddenly he’s gone, just as they’d figured things out, the once irreparable grudge finally melting away and—

He’s sweating hard before he could stop himself, right hand tight in his hair as he mentally worked through where he’d look first. Mount Silver was famously vast, the exterior paling in comparison to the massive network of caves that carved out its insides. Red was always the impulsive one and, it was all too easy to picture him tripping into some pit and breaking something, or the last snowfall just weeks ago burying him before he could beat it, or running out of food, or somehow insulting Moltres while he fleshed out the weird half Pokemon speak he’d become so proud of--

“Green?” Red said, quiet, standing at the mouth of the cave with an arm full of branches for kindling stacked past his nose.

He’s obnoxiously innocent looking, Green’s own loose grey hoodie hanging just a little higher than it did on its owner, warm eyes wide. Clearly, he hadn’t been hiding his panic well.

“I—” All at once, Green was terribly self conscious, blood rushing out of his ears and leaving him with nothing but loud anger. Snatching his hat off the floor of Red’s space, he stalked over before he could stop himself, juvenile rage slapping the branches out of Red’s gloved hands. They clattered to the floor in a drawn out tumble, Red’s brow knitting in irritation.

“The fuc—”

“Where were you?!” Green’s yelling, he knows he is as much as he wished he wasn’t, mere centimeters from Red’s face. “Why would you leave without leaving a note or something? Would it kill you to just let me know?”

No, it wasn’t particularly fair- He never told Red when he was coming (not that he had any way of tell him), but it was selfish, cruel and selfish.

Red was infuriatingly silent, eyes wide and lips tight while he worked through the right words to say.

“You—You—”

“You, you, you—” Green jeered back, shaking his head and backing up so he could at least look at him- all of him. “Spit it out, Red. It’s selfish as fuck, I don’t know what happens up here.”

“You… You can’t, like. Be serious.” Red finally, _finally_ settled on, biting back at Green in that way that used to burn his vision the most taunting colour.

Reverting was easy with Red- Ten years of friendship meant little against five years of the most bitter resentment, the slow crawl back to any semblance of their previous relationship sometimes feeling like an eternity away. Red was selfish, always selfish, talented more than he deserved and seemingly immune to guilt or pity.

It made Green crazy.

“I _am_ serious. I come up here to check on your stupid ass what, every month? I do it for your mom, you know. I just hate the idea of having to tell that sweet lady that her idiot son is dead.”

And yet—as easy as it was to revert to the most sour taste of defeat, it was just as easy to remember a younger Red- the one who didn’t talk for years and years, who’s wide eyes and tight brows told Green absolutely everything he needed to know. So easy to tell, in fact, he could watch every single moment of Red’s expression, initial anger fading to something like hurt.

“Then tell her to come up here. Wouldn’t want to keep inconveniencing you.” He muttered, reaching down to start picking up the branches Green had knocked from his hands. “You can go.”

Always reactionary, always angry, the pulse in Green’s clenched hands ebbed away as quickly as it came, his own words slowly processing.

Maybe he’d overreacted a little.

“No, Red—Okay. Okay. I’m not gonna leave, I’ll help you pick these up I just—” Green crouched down to gather a bundle of branches into his arms, trying with quiet desperation to just meet his eyeline. “… Okay. I’m sorry. I overacted.”

“Yeah, you think so?” Red was mad in his own quiet way, standing up the moment Green crouched to stalk towards the dark firepit and toss his armful down without much thought. He loved to watch, always the observer, and stared Green down with mountain hardened harshness. To some, intimidating, but to Green it only had his words pouring faster.

“I worry about you _all the time_ Red. It never goes away, ever. And like, I know you’re fine, obviously you are, but when I come up here and you’re gone and the fire is cold, so who knows, maybe you froze to death or something and I seriously don’t know how I would ever break that to your mom and—”

Apologizing was so, so embarrassing, but as Daisy relentlessly reminded him, it did mean he was growing up. At least a little.

“—I just don’t know what I would do. I was without you for years, Red. I thought you died after the championship. You know how I heard you were okay? These kids, they come into the gym- they talk about you like you’re some ghost. They were telling me about some guy on the mountain with a Pikachu who doesn’t know how to lose.” Green was pleading, words hoarse and tumbling as he sat on the ground with his hands between crossed legs. “Sometimes I think you are. I have to come up to remind myself that you’re real and not me going crazy—I feel like I’m going fucking crazy, all I can think about is you up here, and I hate it— so please. Please, please, Red, I’m begging. I’m seriously begging you to come home with me. I can’t handle this anymore. It’s been almost a year of me coming. What am I doing wrong?”

There’s a long pause as Red moved closer, gears churning as he dug for the right words to say. It wasn’t in Green to understand something like this, nor should he. Green had friends. Green knew how to talk.

Red just didn’t.

“… Eight months. You’ve been coming for eight months.” Red said, taking a seat in front of Green and letting their crossed knees press against each other. “You’re not, like—You’re not… You’re not doing anything wrong. This is a me thing.” Red sounded exhausted, five years of justifying his prideful move to isolation weighing heavy in his voice. “… Don’t—Don’t go crazy over me. Seriously. Please. Can’t handle that.”

“I can’t help it, that’s the issue—" Green gasped, shaking his head in a frantic mess. “I can’t stop thinking about you up here by yourself.”

Red’s hands were cold as they touched Green’s face, and his cheek was just as cold as it pressed against his, nuzzling soft and desperate up to Green’s ear and back down his jaw.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, shaky before pressing their lips together.

“I can’t come home yet.”

* * *

“He said ‘yet’ this time, Daisy, I’m telling ya’, maybe this isn’t over.”

“I… Green.” Daisy’s voice was gentle, her carefully chosen words washing over Green in a wave of comfort despite the phone between them. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“I won’t.” He said, and even over the rumble of Green’s car in the background as he drove home from the parking area near the Mount Silver campsites, Daisy could tell it was too late.

* * *

The next time Green summits Mount Silver, Red is gone. Not like last time, where the residue of Red’s day was obvious in the still warm ash from his fire, in his unzipped sleeping bag, and in the clothing he’d left behind to be worn the next day.

This time was deliberate.

Green stood in the mouth of the cave, summer sun radiating against his back with unapologetic heat. It burned, each fiber distinct against his skin, his shadow the only company here.

There was no sleeping bag, no camping chairs, no clothes, no cans, no shoes, no backpack and no Red.

Even the small dark patch near the center of the cave where the fire used to be had been scuffed away, border rocks removed and the last of the soot mixed in with the dirt floor.

Not even the wind filled the space.

“No way.” He said, quiet, but this time the pit in his stomach was one of guilt.

Near the mouth, tucked under a small rock blew a piece of paper, folded from the notebook Green remembered getting with Red at the start of their respective journeys. There was a little Charmander in the corner, waving despite the sun damage that bleached its colour away. Green tried not to think about how long it’d been here, waiting.

_I just need more time._

**Author's Note:**

> u can find me on twitter @melloapologist! if u are a Green rper pls let me know i rped Red for a good like 8 years and really really miss it. if u like my version of this anxious little loser i'd love to write with you!


End file.
